No Words Needed
by AnotherGirlWithAStory
Summary: "I didn't even tell you that something was wrong." Harry's voice sounded strangely vulnerable. Hermione softly kissed the top of his head. "We're friends. I just knew. No words needed."


**Title** : No Words Needed

 **Pairing** : Slight hint or indication of Harry x Hermione

 **Characters** : Harry Potter and Hermione Granger

 **Warning** : Symptoms that may correspond with anxiety and insomnia. Character will be a little bit OOC. But hey, what else is new…

 **Prompts** : Write about a character being forced to become what other people want them to be (I chose Harry Potter).

 **AN** : I am not romanticizing anxiety or insomnia. I recommend people who struggle with this to get the help they need when they feel up for it and I recognise that issues like this are a majority of the time not fixed by the presence of another person. I am just writing this because I need to get it out of my system. I also want to clarify that there is a big difference between a panic attack and an anxiety attack. An anxiety attack can occur without people actually knowing about it while panic attacks are usually hard to hide. What I am attempting to describe without using the word in the story is an anxiety attack. I have based these descriptions on a friend's experiences (I have of course asked permission) and information gathered through school and online. I am aware of the fact that anxiety looks different depending on the person experiencing it. This is just one person's experience.

Written for the _Jurassic Fever [Challenge]_ held by whitetiger91 at The Golden Snitch Forum.

 **Warning** : Luna may sound a bit OOC.

 **Word Count** : 1, 951

* * *

Sleep had always been an issue for Harry Potter. He couldn't pinpoint exactly when he began struggling but he wanted to say that he was just a child when it all began. At first, he just struggled to fall asleep. He thought about mentioning that to aunt Petunia when she moaned about him taking so long to wake up but decided that it was probably for the best if he didn't.

Then he struggled to stay asleep during the nights. He would for unknown reason sit up in his bed at least five times every night. He didn't tell aunt Petunia that either. He started becoming extreme. He either slept for twelve hours a night or between three and four hours a night. Harry couldn't understand why his body acted the way it did.

Then sleeping became painful. When he was about eleven years old sleeping became associated with the rapid beating of his heart, an inability to breath properly and a desperate desire to run away. It was a desire that he, most of the time, managed to ignore. But occasionally it all became too much.

The world became too horrible. Life, this so called gift, felt more like a burden and his own life was a constant reminder of the people who never got the chance to experience the few good things life had.

People died all the time. Wives lost their husbands, children lost their parents, a sister lost her brother. But the world just kept moving. It was as if the pain was lost or went over the head of this force of nature. It was almost as if this green planet that so many called a home couldn't care less about the inhabitants that occupied it. No one cared.

The world moved. Time went on. Seconds turned into minutes, minutes turned into hours, hours turned into days which turned into weeks, months and then years. Breaths were drawn. Last breaths. First breaths. Or maybe it was just a random breath drawn in the middle between the beginning and the end. In this moment people were crying, people were smiling, they were experiencing loss and love. Harry glanced to the side as the sound of snoring reached his ears. For a moment, it annoyed him. Then he thought about those who missed listening to the sound of their loved ones' snoring.

Harry sighed as he kicked the covers away. It felt like it was trying to smother him. It felt like it was trying to keep him from leaving his bed. The thoughts invaded his mind like spider webs. He could almost see the thin lines being created in his mind. It built agonizingly slowly and contained things he would do a lot to forget.

There were images flickering and sometimes moving, like a movie, of Dudley taunting him, chasing him and eventually hitting him.

Uncle Vernon reaching for him but in his memories his fists always looked much bigger than Harry knew them to be in reality. When the image changed to Harry looking at himself in the mirror he realised that Vernon hadn't shrunk. It was Harry that had shrunk. Because looking back at him was a child, with emerald eyes far too big for his head and glasses that were barely holding themselves together.

The image turned into a younger Sirius who smiled at him. That hint of darkness, that spark of madness, was gone and a spark in Sirius' eyes proved to Harry that his godfather had been named after the right star.

The thoughts reminded him, in a whispering voice, that Sirius was dead. It told him that his parents had died. Images of his friends moved inside of his head as the voice taunted him with the unavoidable fact that they were going to die one day too. One day Harry Potter was going to be all alone. It was _unavoidable_.

Harry hadn't noticed when his breathing increased in speed. His heart was suddenly aching and he desperately covered his ears with his hands. His throat ached but Harry couldn't tell why. He moved as quickly as he could without making too much sound. He didn't care about the coolness against his feet that made the hair stand up on his arms. He just needed to get away. He couldn't stay there.

He stumbled down the stairs and almost fell but managed to catch his balance. Harry assumed that the common room would be empty at this time but he was proven wrong. He could still hear the sound of his racing heart and the person in front of him didn't make it better. Brown curly hair and brown eyes. Hermione looked at him with a worried expression on her face.

"Is something wrong?" It sounded like her voice came through a filter that distorted the sound. "Harry?"

He nodded. "Yeah, I'm fine. I just couldn't sleep. What are you doing still up?"

Hermione sheepishly held up a book with the title Hogwarts a History. Harry couldn't help but smile in spite of the emotional turmoil that caused havoc inside of his body. His hands shook as they hung by his sides and he wanted desperately to sit down with his back secured against the wall and his arms wrapped around his legs.

"Do you want to sit down?" Harry flinched at the sound of her voice but regained composure within seconds and nodded. "You look really tired. You have looked really tired for a while now."

Harry rolled his eyes and laughed as he tried to sit comfortably in the couch. The task was after a few tries deemed impossible. No matter how he leaned his back his muscles were still stretching in an uncomfortable way. His entire body felt like a piece of string that had been stretched out as far as it could. All that was left for it to do was snap.

"You really know how to make a guy feel special." Harry commented as he forced himself to lean backwards. His head was resting against the back of the couch and he tilted his head to face Hermione.

Hermione rolled her eyes in a similar fashion as he had just prior and gave him a little smile. "I'm not joking. I've been wanting to ask you about it and ask you how you are but so much has been going on lately."

Harry nodded. A lot had been going on. As per usual nothing good. "You don't have to worry about me, Hermione. I am completely fine. I'm just having trouble sleeping right now. I'm sure it'll pass."

Hermione hummed. Harry saw wrinkles on her face and knew that she didn't believe him. She carefully closed the book and put it aside on the table. Hermione rested her hands in her lap and began fidgeting with her fingers while she opened and closed her mouth. Harry couldn't help but smile when she wasn't looking. She didn't know how much he cared for her. It was beyond Harry how something that obvious had gone straight over the head of the wisest which of her generation.

"Have I ever told you that my nickname used to be Mia?" Harry laughed but shook his head. "Well, when I was younger I couldn't exactly pronounce my name but I didn't want my parents to explain it to me. So, I kept insisting that people call me Mia because I liked that better."

"Mia huh." Harry laughed again; it was a sound that both sounded wrong and looked wrong. "Did your parents ever figure out that you were lying to them?"

Hermione nodded. "Oh yeah, very early apparently. But they let me keep the nickname and then one day I could say my name. They only told me that they knew that I was lying to them last year."

"That is beautiful." Harry laughed again, he crossed his arms over his stomach. The tension in his body didn't go away and he couldn't ignore it completely. " _Mia_. I think I'm going to start calling you that."

"You will not start calling me that." Hermione said and wagged her finger at him in a determined way. "I don't want Ron knowing. He'll be insufferable about it and never stop reminding me that my name is so hard to pronounce that not even I could do it."

"Okay, okay," Harry said with a smile. "I will only call you Mia when we're alone."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "We are never alone Harry."

"We're alone now." Harry commented. "Mia. And maybe we should spend more time alone."

"Okay, you can use that nickname and it'd be nice to spend more time with you. You cheeky git." Hermione's comment made Harry laugh again and Hermione couldn't help but join in. When they both became quiet the smile fell from her face. "How are you really?"

The smile fell from his face. "I'm as good as I can be considering that my godfather just died and the only family I have in the world hates me."

Hermione tilted her head to the side. Her mouth opened as she tried to come up with something to say but her otherwise so brilliant mind could come up with no words of comfort. What was she supposed to say? Her parents were alive. There was no dark wizard out to get her. The family she had met loved her. Any words of comfort would sound cheap and might even do more harm than good.

"You don't have to say anything." Harry commented with a smile. "I can handle it myself."

He had pulled his legs up on the couch and were slowly leaning forward to rest his arms on them. When he looked into the burning fire Hermione could see the fire flicker in his eyes and the dark circles underneath his eyes became more prominent.

"But you shouldn't have to handle it yourself." Hermione commented, feeling a sudden rage at the thought of Harry never being offered help. The raven-haired boy looked at her with a somewhat questioning expression on his face. "Come here."

"What?"

Hermione gestured for him to move closer to her and held her arms out as if she was going to hug him. "Come here."

"What are you going to do?" Harry asked questioningly but slowly approached her like someone would a wild animal.

Hermione's gestures grew increasingly quick and when Harry was close enough she held her arms around his chest and pulled him closer to her. After some fumbling, cursing and Harry asking what she was doing they were lying on the couch which magically seemed to fit both of them at the same time.

"Are we spooning?" Harry asked. Hermione didn't have to look at his face to know that he looked shocked.

Hermione let out a sigh. "Yes, we are spooning."

"Why are we spooning?"

"We are spooning because you need it." Another sigh escaped her parted lips. She could feel the muscles in his back tighten and then relax against her stomach and chest as if he was trying to figure out if he was meant to enjoy it or not.

The smell of his hair reached her nose and Hermione couldn't help but smile. It was a unique smell that couldn't be described. It was just Harry. The thought of running her fingers through his hair made them itch but she kept them at the place on his chest near his heart. Harry's hands were resting over hers.

"I didn't even tell you that something was wrong." Harry's voice sounded strangely vulnerable.

Hermione softly kissed the top of his head. "We're friends. I just knew. No words needed."

 **The end**


End file.
